Levedy

10 Months

At ten months, you finally have two things that are necessary to duke it out in this family: teeth and moxie. The teeth (okay, tooth) certainly helps with eating the countless foods your Yiayia plans to feed you. I know that Yiayia intends to turn you into a gourmand, but you accept dill-rubbed salmon and plain old graham crackers with the same gusto. Good for you.

The moxie makes me proud and anxious at the same time. You can’t yet talk, but that hasn’t stopped you from arguing your point with your dad and me. Intermixed with your babblings and hootings are episodes of balling up both of your fists and grunting with such authority and wide-eyed enthusiasm that we have no choice but to agree with you, whatever it is you’re trying to say. Your grandmother once told me that the best and worst parenting decision she made was to raise daughters who speak their minds and stick to their guns. Your moxie makes me proud, but annoys me when I want to do things contrary to The Will of the Bean: horribly wicked, unforgivable things like leaving the room you occupy or disallowing your grabbing the contents of your diaper.

This month you experienced a bright, sunny California day while toddling around on fresh grass for the first time. You loved it. You learned to sniff things, namely fresh-picked lemons. You also exercised your pitching arm with those lemons and your Thea Stella’s head. Luckily, she forgave you. You are so very close to walking, and it frustrates you that your body can’t quite keep up with your desire to be bipedal. Your legs will soon succumb to The Will of the Bean, but for now, we’ll all let you amble while you grasp our fingers.

You love turning pages, splashing in the bath, and playing with empty containers. I let you play with an empty teapot box the other night, and you were enthralled for an hour. You loved looking in it, flipping it over so toys would fall out, and chewing on the corrugated edge. You find wonder in everyday objects; every box or rubbery wrist band or Chap Stick tube holds some secret entertainment that only you can pry out of it. I love that about you. Plus, it makes it easy to not buy you toys constantly. Bored? Here’s a wooden spoon! HOORAY FOR MOM! SHE’S THE BEST!

You weigh almost 18 pounds (yes, I took you to the UPS Store to get you weighed.), which puts you in the 25th to 50th percentile for girls your age. While it makes me worry less that you’re too small for your own good, in practical terms, it means that I am no longer able to fit my 10 month old daughter in 3-6 month clothes. You fit into 9-12 month clothes, which is appropriate for your age, but I can no longer get away with dressing you in gender-neutral clothes. I try to buy you clothes that aren’t (a) too pink and girly, (b) designed to make you look like a miniature teenager and (c) festooned with ruffles and “I’m a princess” lettering.

There’s a reason that you don’t have a single scrap of princess-y decoration in your room, or a plethora of Disney Princess hooey in the house. I don’t like what it purports to teach you. I don’t think that children should be raised like royalty. Playing pretend is fine, but I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to be brought up thinking that you are entitled to fawning treatment and coffers stuffed with toys. Princesses generally don’t do laundry or the dishes, and that idea is a NON-STARTER in this household. Your father and I expect you to pull your own weight around here, and as soon as you can walk, you can GET A JOB.

Your communication skills are improving. So far, you can use sign language to say: milk, all done, hello, bravo, and WHAT YOU ARE FEEDING ME SUCKS, WOMAN. I guess perspicacity coupled with mouthiness is genetic. Man, are your pubescent years going to be FUN.

In the meantime, continue smiling, giggling, and sniffing lemons on sunny days. I hope that you love mornings tucked between your dad and me while sucking down a bottle as much as I do. However, if you would stop stomping on my boobs to crawl over me to get a better view of the cat glaring at you from across our bedroom, I’d appreciate it.

Love,
Mama

Posted by Jen at February 27, 2007 11:07 AM